


Chocolate Deficiency

by Selly87



Series: Punishments & Pleasure [7]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Chocolate, Dom Harry Potter, Dom/sub, Food Kink, Food Sex, Gags, Hand Jobs, Improved Use of A Pastry Brush, M/M, Misuse of A Pastry Brush, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV First Person, POV Harry Potter, Restraints, Rimming, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Draco Malfoy, Subspace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 17:14:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17985314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selly87/pseuds/Selly87
Summary: When Draco struggles to resist his desire for a chocolate, Harry comes to his rescue.





	Chocolate Deficiency

**Author's Note:**

> Suffice to say, you all should be worried about the kind of conversations I have with my muse, the wonderful **Fairy Smut King** , die-hard follower of my Cult of Kink and all-round bestie, who has the power to make me crack up and forget how to breathe at the mention of the word _**honey**_... I swear, it started as a sane conversation but then, well I don't know, insanity happened? Since then _**honey**_ has become part of my aftercare and my hard limit. Don't look at me, it's nothing kinky, I swear.
> 
> I absolutely cannot remember which wicked conversation inspired this particular piece of smut, but after six rounds of punishments, I thought it was finally time for a bit of pleasure, so pull up a chair and enjoy.

* * *

“Harry.”

His voice is soft, his call for my attention is tentative and he almost sounds afraid.

I look up from the book haven’t been able to put down in for the past hour, _The Lies of Locke Lamora_ by a renown Muggle writer, to find him standing in the living room doorway. He is naked as the day he was born and I’m rather taken aback by the sight of him. He stands with his head lowered and his shoulders hunched forward and he is nervously fidgeting with his fingers.

He looks like the epitome of misery, which is rather surprising considering that he’s been in an ecstatic mood ever since I picked up Scott Lynch’s fantasy novel and started reading it. These past few weeks he’s been such a good boy that he earned himself a reward. He thoroughly took me by surprise when he asked me to read a book rather than request that I allow him to wear clothes or reduce some of his chores. However, rewards are rewards and I specifically told him that he could ask for anything. If he wants me to read a book, he’s enjoyed, so that we might discuss it once I’m finished, then that is what I will do for him. I’m nothing if not fair.

“Come in, pet,” I tell him and placing his dragon-shaped bookmark inside the book, I close it and let it rest in my lap.

He walks into the room and gracefully sinks to his knees in front of me. He automatically places his hands behind his back and sits back on his haunches, lowering his head until I give him permission to look at me.

“Look at me, pet.”

He slowly lifts his head and I smile at him. His beautiful grey eyes shine with a kind of unease I seldom see in him and I wonder what brought on this sudden change in his mood.

_I’ll find out eventually, I always do._

I sit forward, run my fingers through his soft blond hair and caress his cheek with my thumb. He leans into the touch and an almost inaudible sigh slips past his lips.

He loves affection, he lives for my affection. The worst I could do would be to deprive him of it, to tell him I won’t touch him, to let him go without my gentle caresses and tender touches for an extended period. He would have to seriously offend me for me to resort to such measures. I’ve never had to inflict that kind of punishment on him and if I’m honest, I’m not sure I want to try. It would break him and not in a good way. I don’t want to treat him that way.

“I can tell there’s something on your mind, pet,” I say gently and he nods.

“Whatever it is, I’m sure we can work it out together, but first, let me tell you how proud I am that you decided to let me help you with whatever you’re struggling with.”

He blushes at my praise and I continue to caress his cheek. He melts my heart when he’s all cute and shy. When he wants to, he can act it, but it does unspeakable things to me when he does it because he can’t help himself.

“What is it, pet? Tell me,” I encourage him.

He sighs and looks like I’ve rained on his parade. He’s silent and I give him a few moments to sort his thoughts and figure out a way to tell me what he needs my help with. I can sense he didn’t think this through, at least not beyond making the choice to come to me. He’s most definitely struggling to find the right words but I know he won’t remain silent for much longer. My praise for his actions means too much to him. He relishes in it, lives for it.

“I can’t do it,” he finally admits and I do my best to keep the confusion off my face.

“You can’t do what?” I ask.

He sighs and shifts uncomfortably.

“Give me your hands.”

I put the book aside and when he offers me his hands, I take them and squeeze gently, giving him comfort.

“What is that you can’t do? You’ll have to tell me, pet, otherwise, I can’t help you. I may be good at reading you, but I’m not that good.”

I could use Legilimency to find the underlying cause of the problem but that would be a gross invasion of privacy and just like our contract stipulates that he’s not allowed to use Occlumency to shield his emotions from me, I won’t resolve to attack his mind to find out what is troubling him. I would only ever do so with his explicit consent.

“I can’t _not_ have sweets, I need chocolate so bad,” he confesses in a whisper and I find myself biting the inside of my mouth to suppress a chuckle.

_Ah, so that’s where the wind blows from. The eternal sweet tooth is suffering from withdrawal._

“It’s only been a week, pet.”

“It feels like an eternity,” he grumbles.

“Seven days is hardly an eternity now, pet,” I chide him gently.

He looks at me with a pained expression.

“Harry.”

“What do you want?”

“I _want_ chocolate. I _need_ chocolate.”

I raise an eyebrow at him.

“You want or you need chocolate? Those are two very different concepts. One is a desire the other a necessity.”

“I _need_ chocolate,” he says. He sounds whiney and looks positively unhappy.

“Just how bad do you need it, pet? If the choice is between chocolate and a flogging, what will you choose?”  
  
“Chocolate,” he replies without hesitation.

His answer surprises me and it doesn’t. He loves a good flogging. His preferred type is a therapeutic flogging that allows him to drift, allows him to let the endorphins flow and drop off into subspace. He also loves a flogging for pain because he knows I’ll make it so good when I use a harsher material and alternate between soft and strong blows and keep him guessing about how strong and where I will strike next.

I know my pet, I know him exceptionally well. I know chocolate is his weak spot. I’ve made him go without it a whole month once because he was extremely mouthy. He later admitted that it was the worst kind of torture I could have put him through.

“What about an orgasm? Would you choose that over chocolate?”

He shakes his head.

_That desperate, eh?_

I hold his gaze for a minute or so. He doesn’t squirm and he doesn’t look away. We haven’t solved the problem yet but I know he feels good about having come to me for help.

“You told me you wanted to lose five pounds,” I remind him. “We agreed on a fair exercise regime and healthy food only for six weeks.”

“I know. And I can do all that but I just need a bit of chocolate.”

“You managed a month without chocolate before, surely a week is nothing compared to that.”

He whimpers and looks at me with pleading puppy dog eyes.

“Please, Harry,” he begs.

“If I always gave in whenever you begged me to break the rules you asked me to make for you, our contract wouldn’t be worth the parchment it’s written on,” I tell him quite firmly and letting go of his hands, I cross my arms over his chest.

He looks resigned and I don’t have to ask him to place his arms behind his back again, he does so quite naturally.

“Just let me have a piece, a small tiny piece,” he continues to beg.

“No,” I shake my head. “Regular exercise and healthy food only for six weeks, one week down, five to go. We agreed on natural sugars from fruits but no sweets and no chocolate.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t do it.”

“One week and you’re ready to give up?”

He nods.

“I need chocolate.”

“No. You can last more than a week. If you absolutely can’t stand it, then you can use your safeword, that’s your prerogative. You choose.”

“You’ll be disappointed if I use my safeword over this,” he sighs.

I regard him for a full minute, then respond.

“Yes, pet, yes I absolutely will. And do you want to know why? Because I know you and I know what you are capable of. You are not one to admit defeat when things get difficult. You are a fighter and you always have been a fighter. If we were a month into your new health plan, I could absolutely understand that you’re struggling, but a week? Don’t be pathetic, Draco.”

I deliberately use my firm voice, the one I use when I scold him and it has the desired effect. He flinches at the sound of it, looks at me with wide eyes and straightens into a more respectful pose. I can tell that my words have sunk in but I also know that he’s struggling to deal with his own craving. He wants chocolate. He wants it badly.

_Well, pet, you can’t have everything you want._

I watch him worry his bottom lip with his teeth and I don’t need to see his hands, to know that he’s fidgeting again.

I lean forward and cupping his chin, I press my thumb against his bottom lip, pulling it free from his teeth.

“Stop that,” I rebuke him gently and hold his gaze for several long moments.

“Tell me, pet, would you like a little incentive to help you with forgetting all about your craving?”

He nods.

“What was that now? I didn’t quite catch your answer.”

“Yes, Harry.”  
  
“Yes, Harry, _what_?” I prompt.

“Yes, Harry, please help me get over my craving.”

“That’s better. Very well, since you’re asking so nicely, I shall do that.”

I get off the sofa and stretch a little.

“Come,” I tell him but click my tongue when he attempts to get up.

“No, pet,” I shake my head. “You crawl.”

“Yes, Harry,” he says quietly and moves onto his hands and knees. I walk slowly and he obediently crawls after me. I don’t make it particularly difficult for him to keep up with me and the distance is short. We’re only going to the kitchen.

Once there, I draw my wand and wave it at the sturdy kitchen table. The vase with the fresh flowers floats over to the kitchen island and the white linen table cloth rolls itself up and places itself over one of the chairs, which I move out of the way and over to the far side of the room.

“On the table on your back,” I tell him and he crawls across the room. I watch the way his bare arse sways from side to side and lick my lips at the delectable sight. I love having him on his knees. He looks so beautiful. He quite literally manages to take my breath away. He slowly gets to his feet, pulls himself up on the table and lies back.

I summon four sets of black jute ropes and move over to the table to show them to him.

“OK?” I ask.

He gives me a small nod and I lean down to kiss him. A gentle kiss on the lips while my hand rests on his chest, splayed out over his heart.

“Close your eyes, pet.”

He obeys instantly and his eyelids flutter closed. I remove my hand from his chest, take his left arm and secure the first piece of rope around his wrist. I make sure to keep the loops loose enough to comfortably fit two of my fingers between his wrist and the rope, then pull his arm over his head before I secure the other end of the rope around the table leg. I restrain his right arm in the same manner, then force him to move down on the table until his arse rests right at the edge.

I spread his legs wide open and as I restrain his right calf to the table leg and then his left, I watch his cock twitch in anticipation.

I give it a gentle caress as I rise to my feet and he lets out a shaky little breath. I let my finger trail over his abdomen, circle his navel and slither up to his chest, around his nipples, along his neck and over his lips.

He squirms under my featherlight touches and I continue to tease him for a few minutes until I draw the first of a series of low whimpers from him.

It is then that I summon a leather blindfold and secure it around his eyes.  
  
I lean down, kiss him and placing my hand in his, I allow him to squeeze it.

Restrained and blindfolded he needs that moment to stay grounded.

“OK?” I whisper and he nods.

“Say it.”

“I’m good, Harry.”

“All right.”

I step away and leave him lying restrained to the table for a few moments to get into the zone. He lies perfectly still, breathes evenly, and doesn’t tug at his restraints or struggle in any other way.

When I’m sure that he’s ready, I approach the table and gently caress his cheek.

“Now, pet, you said you need chocolate, is that correct?”

“Yes, Harry.”

His voice is low, thick with anticipation, and he sounds a little breathless.

“Well then, let me give you exactly what you need, pet.”

“Thank you, Harry.”

_Don’t thank me yet, love._

“So polite, such a good pet you are. So obedient and not at all bratty. Just how I like you best. You are my good pet, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“And you’ll do what I say, right?”  
  
“Yes, Harry.”

I smirk and let my hand trail down his chest and stomach. I wrap it around his half-erect cock and tease him to full hardness. He lets out a low breathy moan and whines when I take my hand away.

“Patience,” I chide.

“Now, I’m going to leave you here for a few minutes but I won’t leave the room. If you feel uncomfortable or need me, just call my name. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Harry.”

“Good boy,” I praise him then move across the room to root about one of our storage cabinets.

It only takes me a few moments to find what I am looking for and taking two large bars of sweet baking chocolate with me, I head over to the stove, summon a pot, and fill it with water. I turn the hotplate on, then go to find a ceramic bowl and a pastry brush. I break the chocolate into small pieces and place them inside the bowl, then wait for the water to heat up.

Once it is simmering, I turn the heat to low, place the ceramic bowl in the hot water and find a small plastic spatula to stir the slowly melting chocolate with. I make sure to let it melt evenly and avoid any clumps or hard pieces of chocolate.

It only takes a few minutes before the chocolate is completely liquified and I take the bowl out of the pot. I turn the stove off and cast a heating charm on the dish to ensure that the chocolate remains warm and soft.

With the bowl and the pastry brush in hand, I return to his side and squeeze his hand gently.

“I’ve got a little treat for you, pet,” I tell him. “It’s sweet and brown and it’s your favourite. It’s what you said you need.”

He whimpers and licks his lips in anticipation.

“And you can’t have it,” I say firmly, effectively crushing whatever hopes he had of me feeding him chocolate while I’ve got him blindfolded and restrained to my kitchen table.

I dip the pastry brush into the thick, creamy chocolate and spread some of it on his lips.

“Lick it off and you’ll get fifteen lashes with your least favourite flogger,” I warm him and he whines and pouts but keeps his lips pressed together and his tongue inside his mouth.

“Good boy, you look so pretty with that chocolate lipstick, sweet darling,” I whisper and run my finger over his lips and then pop it into my mouth and audibly suck it off.

“So sweet,” I tease him and he whimpers.

“Now, since you’re effectively gagged, use your hand signal if you need to end this,” I tell him. We’ve used the same signal for such a long time that telling him feels redundant but he tends to drift and I like to remind him.

He hums and shows me his hand signal in return. I squeeze his hand, tilt his chin up and run the pastry brush from his lips down his throat, over his sternum and his stomach. I stop at his navel, then dip the brush back into the bowl and coat his nipples with warm chocolate. He whimpers again and I bent over to flick my tongue over the sensitive nubs.

I tease them until they harden, then suck the chocolate right off them and bite, making him let out a choked growl.

“I’m going to make you want to scream, pet. Just remember, if you open your mouth, it’s the flogger you’ll get. From now on its twenty lashes.”

He makes the most delightful sound. It’s choked, of course, and I tickle his sides with my fingertips, making him squirm. If it wasn’t for the blindfold, he’d be glaring daggers at me and cussing expletives.

The pastry brush finds its way back inside the bowl but before I coat his nipples again, I raise the temperature of the melted chocolate, making it warmer than before.

When I glaze his sensitive nipples again, he squirms and tugs on his restraints but remains otherwise quiet.

_For now._

I lap at the sweet warm treat and bite his nipples harder than before. He grunts and I repeat the action a third time. The chocolate is now about the same temperature as a nice hot bath and while that’s not enough to sting, it adds a wonderful twist. His nipples are extremely responsive now and his stomach muscles quiver as he tries to remain still instead of struggling. 

He still hasn’t attempted to open his mouth and for that, he deserves some praise. I press my lips to his, lick the chocolate off, then paint his lips with a fresh coating his favourite sweet treat.

“You taste so good, pet, I want to eat you right up,” I whisper against his lips and he whimpers.

“Desperate, are we?”

“ _Ngh_ ,” the sound catches in his throat and I chuckle softly.

“I do love giving you exactly what you need, sweet one.”

I dip the pastry brush into the melted chocolate and let the thick, creamy liquid drip into his navel. He twitches and squirms and whimpers, then chokes on the most delectable sound as I plunge my tongue into his belly button, swirl it around and suck the chocolate right out of it.

“Hm, not as good as kissing your mouth but while you’re otherwise incapacitated this will do,” I tell him and drip more chocolate into his belly button. Another French Kiss later and he’s trying to buck his hips but I’ve restrained him properly and he doesn’t really have the leverage he needs to push his hips off the table.

I watch him for a while, covered in chocolate, writhing and unable to speak. I want to commit this image to my memory. There really is nothing more alluring than my sweet boy covered in his favourite treat, which he’s not allowed to have.

I turn my attention to his cock but before I start with that project, I set the bowl down on the table. I dip the pastry brush into the melted chocolate, wrap my now free hand around his cock, and coat the head.

He moans and whimpers and I tell him just how pretty he looks.

“My favourite kind of lollipop,” I tease and lick the chocolate off again. He grunts and I repeat the whole process several times.

I cover different parts of his cock and use my lips and tongue as well as some suction to clean the chocolate off.

The longer I keep teasing him, the more desperate he gets and I know he wants to beg, wants me to take him deep and suck him off, but I have no intention of doing that. Not when there’s such a tight and pretty hole waiting for me to eat it. My mouth waters at the idea but first I wrap my hand around his cock and give it a few strokes.

Just the way he likes. Firm on the upward stroke, with a little tug, and soft on the downward stroke. I vary the pace and soon enough, his breathing turns ragged and an incessant stream of his choked moans fill the room.

“You know, you would taste good with a little bit of orange flavour mixed in with the chocolate,” I muse. “Or even strawberry. You do love these flavours, don’t you, pet?”

I tease him with complete nonchalance and as though I am not at all in the middle of giving him a handjob and edging him towards an almost-orgasm.

_Because that’s all you’re going to get, pet._

“Some champagne might be nice too. And I think your come mixed with some bitter dark chocolate would be just perfect,” I continue and he writhes and moans and flexes his fingers.

“Just remember, pet, you do not have permission to come, so don’t even think about it. I’ll add another ten lashes to those twenty if you do.”

I tease him until he’s a mere inch away from the point of no return, then leave his cock be and loosen his restraints with a mumbled wandless spell.

He needs a bit of help and plenty of encouragement to get onto his knees for me and spread his legs. His movements are shaky and uncoordinated but he manages. I tighten the restraints again and with no way to support his head, he only has one option; turning it sideways and resting his cheek against the wooden table.

He’s got his mouth firmly closed and I’m so tempted to kiss that chocolate away but that would just give him an incentive to curse me and tell me that I should burn in hell for all eternity. He’s used that delightful term of endearment before. It earned him a shiny red arse and after I forced him to sit on natural rock salt, he apologised rather quickly.

I stop myself from reminiscing and stroking up and down his spine, I give him a few more moments to calm down before I really drive him wanton with lust. I’m not sure he knows what’s coming but he will love and hate me for it, of that I am certain.

I summon one of the chairs and sitting down, I push down on his lower back and force his legs further apart, then grab his gorgeous buttocks and squeeze them. He whimpers and I massage them, then smack them once, twice, three times. He grunts and I kiss the pink flesh, then sink my teeth into it and bite.

He lets out a choked groan and I bite a little harder.

“ _Ngh_ ,” he forces the sound out without opening his mouth and I soothe the bite with a few tiny licks and kisses.

I pull his arse cheeks apart and press my thumb against his tight hole. He whimpers and I circle the furled skin and tease the firm muscle. It flutters beneath my touch and when I pull away, he objects with a series of whines. I tease him with my tongue instead and he only barely manages to keep himself together.

“I do enjoy playing with your hole, it’s so pretty and pink, so tight and you make such beautiful sounds. And now it’s all wet and in a second it will be sweet and sticky—”

The sound he interrupts me with resembles a scream, except his lips are still tightly pressed shut. Pearls of sweat glisten on his forehead. He already looks so debauched that I can barely keep it together myself. I want to fuck him. I want to sink my hard cock into his tight hole. I want to take him. I want to make him feel that intense burn as I fill him up. I want to fuck him hard, claim him, make him mine, then fill him with my come and shove a plug up his arse to keep it there for the rest of the day.

I take a moment to compose myself, swirl the pastry brush around the warm, melted chocolate and lifting it out of the bowl, I make sure to spread his arse cheeks apart. Some of the chocolate drips onto his buttocks but I smear most of it between his spread cheeks and he whimpers as I thoroughly glaze his hole.

“You’re my pretty pet, my sweet boy, I’m going to eat you up,” I whisper and drip even more warm chocolate between his arse cheeks, then drop the pastry brush back into the bowl and use two hands to pull his buttocks apart before I bury my face in the crack.

I flick the tip of my tongue over his hole and he moans and whimpers and chokes his gasps and pants.

I hum in approval and continue to ravish him. He tastes sweet and sweaty and I simply can’t get enough of eating him and the chocolate. I’m sure that my face is a mess but I absolutely don’t care. I want to eat his gorgeous tight hole, I want to drive him crazy.

My hand finds his cock and I wrap my fingers around it and stroke it slowly, teasingly. My focus is on his hole. Every time I hum, it flutters and I persistently push and prod, forcing the muscle to loosen and let me in. My tongue slides past the tight rim and I tongue him, so slowly that I know it’ll be enough to take him apart.

I pull back a little, press the thumb of my free hand against his hole and breach. I slide in until the first knuckle and stretch him a little, then continue to fuck him with my tongue. I lick and suck and alternate between slow and fast and he loses it underneath me.

He is really struggling to stop himself from opening his mouth and letting me hear just how lost in his pleasure he is but I am confident that he can do this. He is competitive enough to give it his best shot.

I stroke his cock with intent, letting my hand fly up and down the hard shaft and he moans. I can tell he’s half delirious and so am I. I’m probably enjoying this more than he is but if he is good, he has absolutely nothing to worry about.

I torment him for a little while longer but at some point, my tongue demands a rest and pulling back a little, I try to catch my breath. I know that he’s close and I cease to stroke him. I summon a wet cloth to wipe the chocolate off my face, then toss it aside and procure a phial of lube from my jeans pocket.

Determined to sink my cock into him before I end this little game, I free my throbbing erection and coat it with plenty of lube, then let some of it drip over his hole. I really don’t care that his arse is sticky with sweet melted chocolate.

I drag him off the kitchen table and I force him to bend over with his legs spread and his feet on the ground. I grab my cock, give it a stroke or two, then guide it to his hole and push inside.

The muscle grudgingly gives but he is still so wonderfully hot and tight and it takes me every little bit of self-restraint not to let go and fill him with my juices.

“Such a good pet, you take everything I give you, don’t you, sweet one? So obedient, you let me have it all, don’t you? You’re mine, pet, mine to play with, mine to tease, mine to eat, mine to fuck.”

I do so enjoy to fuck with his mind while I prepare to fuck his hole and I’m sorely tempted to make him tell me how much he loves me teaching him that he has more willpower than he thinks he has. Since that would be counterproductive to the point I’m trying to make, I refrain and give him a few seconds to adjust to the feeling of my cock sheathed inside him, then pull back and snap my hips forward.

He grunts out choked groans and moans and I repeatedly drive into him, claiming him.

“Be good, my sweet pet, and I may even let you come,” I tell him and continue to fuck him hard.

The sounds he makes are delightful and grabbing his right hip I squeeze hard enough to bruise. He mewls and I reach for the pastry brush and draw a massive _H_ all over his back. It takes several strokes and plenty of chocolate. I am mesmerised by the sheer beauty of it and I cast a cooling charm over it to make the chocolate harden against his skin. A mild sticking charm keeps it in place and I grip both his hips and fuck him harder.

Each thrust has him bumping against the table and I know his cock, confined between his body and the table, is sliding over the surface, providing some friction but not nearly enough to drive him over the edge. I’m glad that I had the sense to use a special coating on the table after I bought it so there is zero chance he will end up with a splinter in his cock.

“ _Do. Not. Come._ ”

I pant the words as I drive into him, repeatedly filling and stretching him with my cock and I can feel my own orgasm break lose deep within me. I let it surge through me, let it consume me and when it washes over me, I give into it. I let it sweep me away and feel every muscle in my buttocks and thighs clench as my come floods through my cock and erupts from the head, filling his tight hole with rope after rope of it.

I shamelessly ride out my orgasm and instead of pulling out, I still and take in the sight in front of me.

I’ve absolutely ruined him. I’ve broken him. Covered in chocolate, he is a trembling, shaking mess and he hasn’t even come yet. His wrists are red from struggling against the restraints and I bet his ankles aren’t looking much better. His flushed porcelain skin is glistening with sweat. He’s sobbing quietly and astonishingly he hasn’t parted his lips.

“Beautiful angel,” I whisper and pulling him gently away from the table, I secure one arm around his waist and wrap my hand around his cock to stroke it.

This time, I’m not teasing.

It takes less than two minutes for his knees to start giving away and I steady him, hold him tight.

He breathes heavily and sobs as my hand flies over his cock, bringing him off.

Another minute later, he spasms.

“Come for me, pet, come now,” I issue a simple command and he succumbs to it as I push him over the edge. His come coats my hand, the side of the table and the floor and his hole clenches around my half-hard cock. I slowly pull out, let him right out his orgasm and give him a moment to recover, before I slowly undo the restraints.

He’s unable to stand on his own and removing the blindfold, I lift him into my arms and cradle him against my chest. He blinks and sobs, tears falling freely from his eyes as he stares at me in complete disbelief.

“Just another minute, sweet one,” I whisper and he nods weakly.

I’m not in the least bit interested in the mess I’ve made of the kitchen. My main priority is to take care of him and I carry him into the bathroom and use a wandless spell to fill the tub with warm water. A skilled levitating charm adds some bathing oil and I carefully lower him into the tub.

He looks completely out of it and deciding that it is too risky to let go of him completely, I simply vanish my clothes and climb into the tub. I kneel beside him, wet a soft yellow sponge, and wipe the chocolate off his lips.

His mouth drops open and he stares at me.

I don’t think he’s able to talk and even if my words won’t make any sense to him, I know the sound of my voice will soothe him.

“You were wonderful, pet, you took it all, I’m so pleased with you, sweet one. You showed amazing willpower. You are stronger than you think you are and when I say you can last six weeks without sweets, then trust me, it’s nothing but the truth. You can do it, you don’t need to give in to your cravings a mere week into it all. You are strong and brave, you are my sweet little pet and I love you. I’ll be with you every step of the way, here and at home,” I tell him, while I gently wash the chocolate off him. He whimpers when I clean him between his buttocks but doesn’t protest otherwise.

I allow him a few minutes in the tub, then get him out and sitting him down on the toilet seat, I towel him dry, use a drying charm on myself, and carry him into my bedroom and tuck him in.

I rarely allow him to sleep in my bed when we’re at the cottage but today he deserves a special treat. Today, he deserves sweet and tender love and the gift of lying in my arms in my bed in my room.

As I spoon around him, I realise that the chocolate _H_ on his back hasn’t come off and chuckling to myself, I vow to show it to him just as soon as he has regained some of his energy and isn’t happily floating in subspace.

“Harry,” he whispers my name into the silence of my bedroom and I hug him tighter.

“I’m here, pet, I’m right here, sweet one, just rest, I’ll stay with you.”

“Harry— Harry— Harry—”

He continues to babble my name for a while but drifts off eventually and once I am certain that he’s peacefully asleep, I allow myself a few minutes of rest.


End file.
